You know what they say

When you have lemons you make lemonade.

Then add the key lime vodka you're trying to finish off and it still tastes like ass. So you drink your ass tasting lemon lime sugar vodka water and ponder the meaning of life, watch 24, and messaging friends that don't really like you but added you on myspace anyhow.

Sometimes a girl does like you, your issues, and your complications. Sometimes.

Sometimes (we all have our reasons) I listen to her voice over and over again.

This morning twenty miles out, already twenty minutes late, driving offside foggy downtown LA, time spent thinking about a conversation I had with a friend. And it goes a little like this...

Sure there are your Starbucks and hot dog carts and the streets while covered in snow are lined with palm trees as far as the eye can see. Granted they’re cell towers and the snow flakes fake, but come on, the hot dogs are grilled to perfection when wrapped in bacon.

This is now. This is as good as it gets.

If anything the people are more real here. They get it. They understand that this isn’t real at all. This street, those sunsets, this blog. We come into LA for our own reasons - if we're lucky, identical reasons. To escape the clouds of home, to follow our dreams of fame, the desires of the one you loved. Ah yes the ones you loved with their determination and drive for the suburban dream. Two kids, a dog, a cat, a person to love - to support. I wanted that and thought I found that reality in the artificial world of Los Angeles.

Fuck me it wasn’t even LA.
It was barely LA County.

A stranger offered nice words to me the other week and ended with a 'You know what they say: Everything is 20 minutes away.'

I looked up at this person and smiled.
On this street surrounded by palm trees and hookers,
kissers and haters
20 minutes to the beach, 20 minutes to work,
I'm ready to move in now.


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